


anatole, dolokhov, and the great comet of 3 a.m.

by surrealmeme



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cars, Dating, Fluff, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Operas, Stargazing, aesthetic, based on a mood/aesthetic, just a cute lil 3am stargazing date from a convertible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 18:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18878734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrealmeme/pseuds/surrealmeme
Summary: “Go on a date with me.”“It’s – it’sthree a.m."“So? I have a car.”in which anatole and dolokhov go for a ride, stars in the sky and opera in the air





	anatole, dolokhov, and the great comet of 3 a.m.

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written for great comet/war and peace before so i hope the characterization is okay

_“Hey!”_ Anatole sharply whispered. _“Get up!”_

Dolokhov had been trying – in vain, clearly – to fall asleep for the past thirty minutes, and he had been very close. With a huff, Dolokhov pushed himself up and grumbled,

“What do you want, Tolya?”

“Go on a date with me.”

Dolokhov blinked several times, both because his eyes were still blurry with sleep and the sheer ridiculousness of Anatole’s request.

“It’s – it’s _three a.m.,”_ Dolokhov said.

“So?” countered Anatole. “I have a car.”

Dolokhov sighed a long-suffering sigh.

“And where will we go? Where besides fast food places are open at three fucking a.m., Anatole? Tell me.”

“Just get up, Fedya, let’s _go_ ,” Anatole insisted. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Dolokhov could think of over a hundred different ways to use that line to turn their conversation into a filthy one, and he considered seizing the opportunity. Doing so would guarantee that they wouldn’t venture outside the warmth of Anatole’s room. But doing so would _also_ guarantee that Dolokhov would be exhausted, possibly from fucking Anatole up against the wall until he cried. And as appealing as that sounded, the truth was that Dolokhov felt like he would collapse as soon as he picked Anatole up – plus, Dolokhov couldn’t deny that he was at least interested in what Anatole had planned.

So Dolokhov acquiesced and began to dress. Once both teenagers had pulled on their hoodies, shoved their feet into their shoes, and grabbed their phones, they were ready to raise hell.

“Thanks, babe,” Anatole quickly said. Then, as his car’s engine rumbled to life, he crowed, “ _Let’s go!”_

Anatole handed his phone to Dolokhov and told him to put on some music; Dolokhov entered in the password and gave a cursory glance at Anatole’s playlists. One of them caught Dolokhov’s eye, making him smirk and hit play. A rich orchestra boomed through the speakers and led into a soaring aria. Grinning, Anatole turned the volume up and the top of his convertible down. What an image they made, Anatole Kuragin and Fyodor Dolokhov – two undeniably obnoxious teenage boys, blasting music from a flashy car in the middle of the night. But the music was opera, and the boys listened very intently and appreciatively. Absolutely ridiculous.

After ten minutes of making utter nuisances of themselves, Anatole and Dolokhov arrived at their destination – a Taco Bell. Dolokhov fixed Anatole with an unimpressed stare.

“Really?” he demanded. “You actually woke me up for Taco Bell?”

Anatole coolly brushed off Dolokhov’s complaints.

“This isn’t the end,” he said. “We’re just picking up a snack before the real thing.”

Dolokhov let out a small huff and said,

“Fine, Anatole. At least tell me _where_ we’re going, though.”

“Nope, it’s a surprise,” Anatole gleefully said, then turned his attention to the drive thru order kiosk.

Four tacos, a large soda, and three minutes later, Anatole and Dolokhov were back on the road, devouring the cheap food and narrowly avoiding spilling hot sauce on Anatole’s leather seats. At some point, Anatole made a turn, the road faded into grass, and they were driving up a small hill. The air was brisk and clean; it invigorated the two boys, as did the sight of bright stars shining in the deep night sky. They leaned their seats as far back as they could go and gazed up at the heavens’ celestial brilliance.

“This is nice,” Dolokhov said. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Anatole looked over at Dolokhov, whose features were soft and blurred in the moonlight; his thick dark hair faded into the inky sky.

“It’s okay,” Anatole said. “And we’re not done yet – just wait.”

And so they sat, enjoying each other’s company as the world’s natural beauty shone down upon them and majestic voices filled the air. It was a breathtaking scene and perfect moment already – just Anatole and Dolokhov, away from the stress and judgment of life – and Dolokhov couldn’t imagine how it could possibly get better.

Then, a burst of cold brilliant blue light streaked across the sky, setting the world on fire for just an instant.

 _“Oh,_ ” Dolokhov breathed; Anatole let out a soft gasp.

And then the comet was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving the two boys utterly awestruck.

“That was incredible,” Anatole quietly said, eyes still fixed on the sky and the faint trail of light left behind.

“Yes… incredible,” Dolokhov echoed.

After musing about the wonders of what they had just witnessed, Anatole and Dolokhov turned to each other.

“Thank you, Tolya,” Dolokhov sincerely said, taking one of Anatole’s hands in his own. “I love you.”

A smile spread across Anatole’s fine, delicate yet sculpted face.

“I love you, Fedya,” he repeated.

And the stars looked down on the young lovers and bestowed upon them a blessing.


End file.
